On the Pedraza (Pedrasa)

Although the documentary trail is incomplete, it looks like one of our forebears was a descendant a family that frequently married cousins in the 18th and 19th centuries, the Pedraza. The earliest one we can find is a Lorenzo Pedraza, who died in 1812. His wife, Rafaela de Arroyo, passed away in 1800, in Caguas. We also know that a son of this couple, Hilario Pedrasa de Arroyo, married a Dorotea de Sierra Pedrasa in 1788 (also in Caguas). Since Dorotea's mother was a Juana Pedrasa and Hilario's father also a Pedrasa, we think the two were probably related. 

We believe that Hilario Pedrasa and Dorotea de Sierra were the parents of the Ramona Pedraza we are interested in. According to the parish books of San Lorenzo, a Ramona Pedraza, daughter of Hilario and Dorotea, married Domingo Montanez (son of Juan and Maria Reyes) in 1813. The Montanez and Pedraza have a long history in the 18th and 19th centuries, at least in the area of Caguas and San Lorenzo. We believe the daughter of Domingo Montanez and Ramona Pedraza, married a Montanez who likely descends from the same lineage. 

This daughter, Isabel or Ysabel Montanez Pedraza, married a Guillermo Diaz of Guayama. According to the little we could find in the parish books, Guillermo Diaz was a hijo natural of a Isabel Diaz. We know both were pardos or morenos. Fortunately, a number of documents assert that the parents of Ysabel Montanez Pedraza were Domingo and Ramona Pedraza, pardos libres. Ysabel's death certificate from the late 1800s also identifies her father as a Domingo Montanez. 

To make things even more confusing, a Maria Ramona Pedraza was said to have married a Ramon Benitez in 1821. Get this, Maria Ramona Pedraza's parents were listed by the parish priest in San Lorenzo as Hilario and a Teodora (Dorotea?) Sierra! Perhaps Ramona remarried then or there was a mix-up  on the part of the parish priest.

If our theory is correct, then Domingo Montanez's parents were Juan Montanez and Maria Reyes. Now we need to find out the origins of Isabel Diaz, Guillermo's mother. The Pedraza and Montanez appear to have been related and marrying each other since the second half of the 1700s, but the origins of the Diaz line remains a mystery. Furthermore, we were unable to determine the origins of Lorenzo Pedraza, the father of Hilario. 

The Jibaro's Indian Inheritance

Although Jose Colomban Rosario's 1935 MA thesis, The Development of the Puerto Rican Jibaro and his Present Attitude Towards Society is rather dated and relies on a problematic framework, it is actually a worthwhile read for strong legacy of the indigenous peoples of the island. Despite viewing the jibaro as a problem in need of solutions for Puerto Rico to achieve true progress, there are number of interesting observations on the historical development of the jibaro to support the theory of significant Amerindian (cultural) survivals. While the author often neglects or treats the African inheritance as an afterthought among the jibaro and he occasionally posits that the jibaro is mainly of Spanish "racial" stock, there are even allusions to indigenous phenotypical features and miscegenation that suggest the jibaro culture was very much an "Indian-Spanish" one with African influences.

First, the biological and cultural inheritance. Rosario alludes to the 1530 de Lando census's enumeration of 14 vecinos who were married to Indian women. Of course, there must have been a far higher number of Spanish males involved with Indian women as concubines due to the paucity of European and African women in those days in the colony. Evidence such as the mestiza heir of Antonio Sedeño also suggests that many mestizo children were born in the first century of the colony. These mestizos, in addition to indigenous survivors of the colonial conquest wars and encomienda system, bequeathed much of their culture (and genes) to what later emerged as the Puerto Rican people. Africans, according to the occasionally racist perspective of Rosario, who often quotes extensively from Bryan Edwards, were less influential due to their low status as slaves and their quick assimilation into this "Indian-Spanish" hybrid culture. Colonial society, with the decline and imperial neglect of the later 1500s and the remainder of the colonial period, saw the spread of the population across the island in isolated patterns with Spanish settlers (and their descendants) adopting Indian customs and practices of domestic architecture, agriculture, musical instrumentation and other aspects of material culture. Indeed, a jibaro bohio without hammocks, music without guiro and maracas and the use of the machete to serve the same function as the coa of the Taino was rather rare. 

Intriguingly, yucca was not a major staple of the jibaro diet. Instead of yucca and the old Taino casabe, the jibaro as encountered by Rosario was more likely to rely on rice, beans, green bananas, codfish, sweet potato and yams with only rare consumption of meat or eggs. In this respect, the jibaro diet was probably less nutritious than that of their indigenous forebears, despite the addition of European domesticates in the island. The high rates of disease, lack of medical care, insufficient diet, and low wages and lack of land ownership ensured the jibaro family operated at subsistence levels. In temrs of family structure and relations between the sexes, the jibaro practice of concubinage may also, in part, stem from indigenous influences. While the Spanish and African inheritance also included concubinage and polygamy, the relatively wealthy jibaro with a woman or two on the side may also be a product of their indigenous ancesetry. After all, caciques and some nitainos had multiple wives. In addition, records from the encomienda era point to Indian men at the Real Hacienda de Toa who had more than one woman as a sexual partner and marriage was not widely practiced. This same feature was noted among the jibaro by Rosario, as consensual marriages were still very common. 

In addition to the adoption of much of indigenous cultures and practices, actual biological descent from the indigenes was even remembered in oral traditions by some jibaros interviewed by Rosario. The father of one child in Utuado with conspicuous "Indian" features reported that the great-grandmother of the boy was an Indian woman from the mountains of Lares, seized by a Spaniard and having a number of "half-breed" children with him. Lares, not far from Maricao and other regions which were documented as having "Indians" as late as the early 19th century, when the boy's great-grandmother probably met the Spaniard, must have had a sizable population of "Indians" or people who considered themselves as such, to be remembered by jibaro descendants in the early decades of the 20th century. The jibaro man reporting this "Indian" ancestor was probably not alone. This means that perhaps many jibaro of that region of Puerto Rico remembered indigenous ancestry. Furthermore, Utuado was one of the regions of the island noted by Fewkes to possess a significant number of people with marked "Indian" features. This suggests that the tale of Indian ancestry reported by Rosario from one jibaro family was likely common among other jibaros of the region of Utuado, which combined with cultural survivals of the indigenous past, point to the significant "mestizo" element of jibaro origins. It is unfortunate that more oral traditions were not collected from jibaros of this region of the island to collect more family histories of Indian ancestry. Perhaps these oral traditions and folklore could have some bearing on our understanding of cultural identity, race, and popular culture in colonial Puerto Rico. 

While the indigenous legacy is most evident in the material culture of the jibaro, Rosario's study hints at possible legacies in religion and spirituality. The jibaro, for example, frequently consulted the spirits through mediums for cures or solutions to their problems. Of course, some of these practices also have European and African influences, but the Taino traditions of behiques, cemis and ritual healing likely influenced this. Similarly, Salvador Brau's report that the jibaro believed that spirits of the dead roamed the Earth at night could also be, in part, a remnant of Taino belief (despite obvious parallels with African and European beliefs and superstitions). Due to the promotion of Roman Catholicism by the colonial government for centuries, the official religion of most jibaros was Catholic. However, they rarely went to mass, lived isolation from churches, and seemed to associate religious celebrations of the saints with less pious festivities. Indeed, jibaros loved the celebrations on the feast days of particular saints, often providing time for dances, banquets, racing, "sinful profanities" and and celebrations. However, the celebration of the saints was possibly also a survival of Taino and Spanish religious practices. Instead of God, the jibaro prays to the saints for intercession and assistance. These saints may have replaced the cemi just as the Spanish traditions of venerating the saints undoubtedly influenced Puerto Rican Catholicism. In the Puerto Rican context, Rosario cites an interesting example from the colonial era that may reflect Indian-Spanish fusion of belief. In this case, festivities and masses for Saint Patrick were believed to protect yucca from worm infestations. The process in which this saint was chosen to protect the cassava from infestation was believed to be a miracle or result of divine intervention and was actually decided upon by the episcopate of the island. Nonetheless, in 1641, worms attacked the cassava crop after less than enthusiastic festivities for Saint Patrick, so a grand festival was held in his honor to protect the cassava. This anecdote from the 17th century possibly hints at a spiritual blending of ancient Taino and Spanish Catholic customs. We know from Hispaniola in the 1490s that some Taino used wooden images of Catholic saints to promote the growth of crops, an earlier instance of Taino adoption of the Catholic saints in their own framework. Perhaps the jibaro also believed that Saint Patrick required faithful veneration and tribute in order to earn his protection or assistance, a legacy of the indigenous past.

Last, but certainly not least, music and dance among the jibaro suggest indigenous survivals. Rosario quotes Manuel Alonso on the "Indian" features in the garabato dances. We already know that the guiro and maraca were of Indian origin. While the Spanish guitar, decima, and "African" cuatro and bailes de bomba were very much a part of musical culture, the Indian areito or areyto may have survived in the long dances of the jibaro. The Indian dances of the pre-Hispanic past were known to persist for several hours and to be associated with recording history of caciques and for major festivities. The jibaro dance similarly could last all night and could be associated with religious celebrations or secular purposes. The jibaro dance used some of the same instrumentation as those of the areyto and, according to Agustin Stahl, probably represents a remnant of the areito. Naturally, the jibaro dance lost some of the grandeur of the areito, but their length, mixture of secular and religious motivations, maintenance of indigenous instruments, and function as a major pole for bringing people together could also represent indigenous legacies. In addition, the function of decimas and oral poetry that described events and people, while a Spanish legacy, could also have adopted aspects of indigenous areitos and oral history. Perhaps the early campesinos, as Spanish became the dominant language, found it more expedient to adopt Spanish forms like the decima as the lavish areitos of the indigenous past were less common and harder to organize as campesinos lived further apart and lost the village life of the yucayeque. The batey, too, once associated with the ballgame and areito, became just the area cleared of weeds in front of one's house, no longer the center of a community in which community-wide events took place. 

In summation, Rosario's study presents evidence from historical and ethnographic observations that support a significant Indian influence on the jibaro. Some of this evidence points to biological inheritance, which is further supported by genetics and genealogical research. Cultural continuity from the indigenous past to the present can be seen in material culture, music, spirituality and family structure. Of course, to properly address this question of Taino influences upon the jibaro, modern scholars would have to collect more oral traditions. In addition, a serious consideration of African influences is also necessary to avoid the racial bias and omissions of past scholarship. The African influences in this work are usually an afterthought, and this in spite of the author pointing to African survivals in the funeral practices, music, and regard for parents and elders among the jibaro. In order to properly ascertain, to the extent possible, our indigenous legacy, one must not reject the African root. Furthermore, a detailed study of spirit mediums, healing, and popular Catholicism must also be undertaken to fully investigate the matter.

Sued Badillo and the Theme of the Indigenous in the Hispanic Caribbean

Jalil Sued Badillo's essay, "The Theme of the Indigenous in the National Projects of the Hispanic Caribbean", published in Making Alternative Histories: The Practice of Archaeology and History in Non-Western Settings should be required reading for anyone and everyone interested in Taino revivalism, Puerto Rican cultural identity, the rise of the mixed-race Creole culture of the peasantry by the 17th century, and nationalism in the Spanish Caribbean setting. Sued Badillo makes a convincing case for the survival, persistence and cultural reproduction of indigenous Puerto Rican and Caribbean peoples well after the mid-1500s. But, over time, this social and cultural reproduction became something new that people of European and African origin also participated in, leading to the distinct Creole identities of Puerto Rico, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic. This, in turn, became a central theme for the construction of national identities, as the peasantry best represented the continuity with the indigenous past and the ""national" character. As illustrated in Sued Badillo's article, 19th century Puerto Rican nationalists called the jibaros of Borinquen the children of Agueybana.

For our interests, Sued Badillo's documentation of "Indian" communities after the middle of the 16th century was most important. It was not solely in Cuba, where "Indian" pueblos and barrios existed long after 1600. For instance, on Hispaniola, he mentions the "Indian" pueblo of Boya, an attempt by Hispaniola encomienda "Indians" to form another town, and the prominence of "Indians" and "mestizos" in western Hispaniola, where smuggling and contraband with other Europeans was common, leading to some mestizos and "mulatos" becoming wealthy. Indeed, this probably explains why Samuel de Champlain, writing in 1599, mentions "Indians" in Hispaniola who trade with the French. These "Indians" and mestizos who continued to trade with Europeans and develop their own contraband economy were also part of the creation of a new creole identity on Hispaniola as "Indians" and mestizos were joined by people of African descent that resisted the colonial government in Santo Domingo. One can see the rustic "monteros" of the 19th and 20th century Dominican Republic emerging from these forebears.

Moreover, something similar occurred in colonial Puerto Rico just as colonial officials were proclaiming the disappearance of "Indians" and mestizos. Some did so, as pointed out by Sued Badillo, to mask the fact that they continued to purchase and exploit enslaved "Indians" from other lands long after the New Laws of 1542. Such an honor appears to apply to the governor of Puerto Rico in the 1560s. Sued Badillo points out the persistence of "Indian" and mestizo communities such as the Quebrada de Dona Catalina, near San Juan. Other "Indians" and mestizos were scattered and pushed onto marginal lands and shifted into the piedmont overlooking the coastal area. These communities, joined by people of European and African origin, gradually increased in population, engaged in subsistence agriculture and commercial exchange for local and foreign markets, and continued to influence colonial society. 

Sued Badillo's analysis of the "Indians" of Mona is likewise enlightening, for it points to indigenous survival on an island which engaged in smuggling, food production (cassava) for other Spanish colonies, and their eventual relocation to the hills of San German and nearby regions sometime before 1685. Unfortunately, Sued Badillo does not explain or speculate on what happened to the "Indian" pueblo of Cibuco, but we are of the opinion that Mona "Indians" and the former residents of the 16th century Cibuco settlement must have both ended up in the region that would eventually be named La Indiera. Perhaps the reappearance of "Indians" on censuses in the late 18th century in the San German area is related to descendants of Cibuco, Mona, and "Indian" or mestizo laborers and convicts transported to Puerto Rico from Venezuela and Mexico in the late 1600s and 1700s, but the censuses do not provide adequate information to ascertain this. An alternative and equally speculative theory could be related to land control and access, as mestizos" and people who may have had distant "Indian" ancestry in western Puerto Rico tried to defend their property or local autonomy in the late 18th century and early 19th century. 

Overall, Sued Badillo's persuasive article demonstrates not only "Indian" survival" in the Spanish Caribbean, but significant "Indian" contributions to the rise of the "mestizo" creole culture. He does not seek to romanticize it, as it was not egalitarian and suffered from some of the same racial hierarchies and problems inherent to its colonial setting. Nor does Sued Badillo seek to exaggerate the population of "Indians" or mistakenly equate jibaros with "Indians" as some Taino revivalists argue. But the indigenous population and its racially mixed-progeny provided much of the basic structure of the nascent creole identity, even as officials denied the existence of "Indians" and even "mestizos" disappear. This perspective was adopted by historians who failed to see how the social and economic conditions of the Spanish Caribbean in the late 1500s and early 1600s favored "Indians" and mestizos through contraband trade, migration away from colonial towns, and a degree of autonomy that allowed for population growth. As for the fate of "mestizos" in the region, Schwartz's article suggests it is very likely that many mestizos became whites (or perhaps even "blancos de la tierra), while others were lumped into the "pardo" category in a process seen for much of Puerto Rico by Abbad y Lasierra in the 18th century. More works remains to be done on this process, as well as the experiences of "Indians" in La Indiera during the late 18th century. 

Works Cited

Castanha, Tony. The Myth of Indigenous Caribbean Extinction: Continuity and Reclamation in Borikén (Puerto Rico). New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.

Schmidt, Peter R., and Thomas C. Patterson, eds. Making Alternative Histories: The Practice of Archaeology and History in Non-western Settings. Santa Fe, NM: School of American Research Press, 2003.

Schwartz, Stuart B. “Spaniards, ‘Pardos’, and the Missing Mestizos: Identities and Racial Categories in the Early Hispanic Caribbean.” NWIG: New West Indian Guide / Nieuwe West-Indische Gids 71, no. 1/2 (1997): 5–19.